


Iridescence

by MintChocolateLeaves



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bonds and Relationships, M/M, Meteorstuck, POV Second Person, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 11:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20620022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintChocolateLeaves/pseuds/MintChocolateLeaves
Summary: A Knight of Blood. Someone capable of seeing visual representations of both human and troll bonds alike, to see their relationships in a physical construct, strings that grow thicker the more influence they have on a person.Or, Karkat thinks over Dave's strings, and what exactly he can learn about him from the bonds he holds.





	Iridescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aceoftwos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceoftwos/gifts).

> Written for my love because she's not feeling well today, and I wanted to make her feel better even if only through some written words. I hope you will feel better soon. xx

Sometimes it feels like living on a meteor is all the life there will ever be.

It is hard, as the days start to blend together, to remember that there was ever something that came before now. Those days feel so far behind you that some days it is difficult to know for certain that they ever existed at all. To know that Alternia was nothing more than a myth, just like it feels the human’s _Earth _that you created was nothing more than a tale.

You’re not sure how long it has been.

It cannot be past a sweep and a half, because that’s how long it should take to reach your destination, a new world post-scratch, but it feels almost longer than that, sometimes.

If you asked Dave, then he would answer with the time – down to the _seconds. _Sometimes when you are watching him from the corner of your eye, it is like you can see the resemblance of a clock in his eyes, can see the countdowns and the timers, hundreds of them, all in his head, ticking _endlessly._

You do not ask.

In a way, you think that’s kindness.

It’s similar to the way he doesn’t ask about the way your gaze loses focus some days, when everyone is all together at mealtimes, when you’re more focused on the clutter around everyone then on the expressions they wear on their faces.

There are strings surrounding people that only you can see, and some days it is too much. To take in the thickness, the colours, to know both the meaning and applications of such but be unable to verbalise what exactly it is you are seeing.

Perhaps then, it really is Dave’s version of kindness.

Which is strange, because at the beginning, it had felt like he was anything but. From the screen of your computer, his strings had been impossible to decipher, so much so that it had left you wondering whether humans even _had strings._

But then he had arrived on the meteor, and you’d seen taken a single glance at him and determined his personality based on the bonds he wore.

A Knight of Blood. Someone capable of seeing visual representations of both human and troll bonds alike, to see their relationships in a physical construct, strings that grow thicker the more influence they have on a person.

Most people have many. So many that sometimes they simply look like puppets, people that can be easily influenced, and you _hate that, _hate how at first, before you’d realised they weren’t really _there, _you’d stepped around them, trying not to trip up or get buried beneath them.

Where others had hundreds, all from loose connections made with those they’d met in passing, connections made with strangers following shared interests, whether intentional or not, Dave had simply had _five._

A thin string you know leads to Terezi. Three slightly thicker cords that you know must lead to his friends, to the other humans and then... Each attached to his fingertips, as if unwilling to attach them nearer to any vital areas, unwilling to let them in to anything more important, to let them get closer to anything that might break if he were to assign them to other organs.

_(You’ve seen the way Tezeri’s string to Vriska ties around her stomach in a bow, how when Vriska is too far from her reach, it leaves her pained, how every action towards the troll is based off of gut instincts. Strings tied to organs always leave someone breathless, and not always in a good way.)_

Five strings and you had thought of Dave as unkind, because only psychopaths would be unable to form any more bonds than that.

You’ve had time since then to muse on it while on this meteor, through half-glances and stolen looks from the corner of your eye, and you’ve long since come to a realisation: If you’d grown with a noose around your neck, the rope tight and thick, connected to your larynx, you wouldn’t form strings as easily either.

Lest they choke you out in a similar way to how you’ve been living all this time.

Dave is not unkind, you have long since learned, even if he is often obnoxious, or an asshole. He is simply _scared._

Even with the noose cut, even knowing it is not tied taut anymore. Even if there is no force for the rope to move anymore, the noose leaving him breathless – filled with a terror you could never understand, only _see, _a noose the colour of candlelight, orange and burning against his skin – it still strangles him.

You know it does.

You have seen it in the way his mouth curls when people get too close, and you learn to hate the colour orange because you know, _you know _and there is nothing you can do, no matter how much you want to bring Dave close and untangle the rope from around his neck.

If you were stronger, then maybe you would manage, but you’re not a god, you never god tiered and you never will. Maybe if you were, you’d be able to remove the noose from his neck and lift the weight of it from his shoulders.

But you are just one troll, and not even one of the _strong _ones.

The most you can do is tug on a different string when this one is burning against his throat too much, trying to pull his attention to other people. You don’t think he realises you’re doing it.

Sometimes you don’t even realise.

And slowly, you _have _noticed that there have been some more strings being fostered. Slow forming, wrapped around his remaining fingertips, linking to other people on the meteor.

Kanaya. Vriska. The mayor.

_You._

All of them thin, all of them developing like they’re webs that can be woven into spider’s silk one day.

Nine bonds.

You notice that yours is on his ring finger.

Perhaps there is no significance there, but you like to pretend there is. And perhaps sitting across from him, glancing at the string that ties you together, wanting to pull on it for his attention is selfish, but you never pull it.

You simply let it ripple naturally.

You hope it will grow.

**Author's Note:**

> <s> Since I like this concept, there is a chance I might add to it. I'm not sure yet. </s>


End file.
